Too Early to Pick Out Curtains

Back in 2008, my friend Max was having his house worked on, and I offered to help.  He hired contractors for most of the work, and he made frequent trips to the contractor's office to iron out all the nuts and bolts before work began.  I accompanied him on a few of these trips and met Lisa, a secretary for the contracting firm.  We flirted, and I asked her out.  We hit up an outdoor cafe.

Lisa and I had the same last initial, and one of her first statements was, "If we get married, I wouldn't have to change my monogram."  I took this as playful banter and said all I could say to that statement:

"That's right!"

The date went on, and she became increasingly touchy-feely.  That's all well and good, and my uneasiness went away.

Until she asked, "What would you want to name our kids?"

"Uh..."

"Because I already have names picked out for the first two."

I said, "I'm sure your names are... fine."

She said, "I'd name them after my favorite places."

I saw an opening.  I took it.  "Where are some of your favorite places?"

Go me.  Changing the subject.

She said, "Miami Beach and West Virginia.  Miami Beach because that place knows how to party, and West Virginia because I lost my virginity there."

"Oh."

"Ironic, right?  Virginity lost in a place called West Virginia?  Heh."

This raised a question, and I asked it.  "You'd name your child after where you lost your virginity?"

She said, "That wouldn't be the only reason.  I think Virginia's a unique name for a boy."

"You'd name the boy Virginia?"

"Yes."

I leaned in.  "What if you had a girl instead?"

"Then I'd name the boy Virginia when we had him."

"What if you had a string of 50 girls?"

She said, "I think that by that point, we'd have used gene therapy to ensure the birth of a male."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

I hastened to change the subject once more.  "Do you have any hobbies?"  You know, like categorizing bugs, shampooing carpets, collecting fingernails, anything?

She nodded.  "I like drawing.  I'm on deviantART.  I draw wedding portraits for people and sell them sometimes."

"That's clever.  Do you do good business?"

"It's slow right now, but it'll pick up again really shortly."

Then she sort of retreated into herself.  She leaned back, hunched down slightly, and seemed to want to be invisible.  I asked her, "Something wrong?"

She said, "I have a confession to make."

"Okay."

"I don't know if you'll like it."

"I don't either."

"I drew a wedding portrait."

"Awesome."

"Of us."

"..."

"Is that weird?"

I stared at her.  "A little.  Yeah."

"Oh.  Sorry."

She shut her mouth for the rest of the date, and while I tried to engage her, I have to confess that it was really halfhearted on my part, since I didn't want to see her again.

She did, however, send me a scan of the picture a couple of weeks later.  In her defense, she actually was a good artist.  No, I don't have it anymore, and I wouldn't show it to you if I did.